When it rains...

...it pours, and the leak in my roof caves in which floods my apartment for the first of three times in the week.  And no, I'm not exaggerating.  In the last week my apartment has flooded not one, not two, but three times.  I have had a maggot infestation (yes, maggots), mold from the flooding, and most recently , the ceiling in my bathroom caved in, the walls buckled and the medicine cabinet crashed to the floor. Ten days ago, my apartment was pure *perfection*, my haven, my 'escape from it all'.  It used to be pristine, gorgeous, like an oasis to be coveted.  Or at least it appeared that way.  What used to be my favorite place in this world has suddenly morphed into what can only be described as the seventh circle of Hell.  I'm coming to realize that those age-old life lessons are true:  appearances can, indeed, be deceiving.  Chalk one up for mom... one by one her mantras are proving to be true.  My cozy little home may have looked the part, but beyond the newly painted walls, hardwood floors and crown molding is old, rotten wood, gutters that haven't been cleaned since OJ was tried, and plumbing problems that haven't been tended to since I learned how to multiply eight by four.  It's been more than difficult to suppress the "why me?", "why me?", "why ME?!?" mentality that I refuse to let get the best of me.  It's called perspective, people.  The situation is far from ideal.... but in the end I have to remember that it could be a heck of a lot worse.  

Alas, here I sit, in my childhood bed... having taken my mom up on her offer to (temporarily)  move home.  Though it's admittedly strange to be sleeping in my old bed, there's something immensely comforting (and not at all creepy) about looking over and seeing my childhood teddy bear staring at me with his dopey, glassy gaze.  

So, the question remains, what's the next step?  Do I move?  Do I let my (negligent) management fix the problems at hand?  Or do I milk this free rent for all that it's worth?  Hmmm......

Addicted? Nope, not this girl...

When I started running, I sought out advice from a number of friends who have run marathon after marathon. They all had different advice: ‘Eat more carbs’, ‘Stretch before AND after your workout’, ‘Don’t push yourself too hard’, ‘If you can’t talk while you’re running, you’re going too fast.’ While many of their points differed, they all seemed to agree on two things: “No matter how much you run, the first mile is always the hardest”, and “You WILL become addicted”.

So far, the first has proven to be true. Upon the first few blocks, my legs feel like they’re being forced to operate in a way they were never meant to. There is no rhythm, and certainly no grace associated with my movements. Keeping my arms tight at my sides in an effort not to whack fellow pedestrians, my legs look and feel completely out of sync. Sure enough however, after the first mile or so, my body seems to remember what it’s supposed to be doing. I slowly find my pace, and my aching muscles are no longer stiff. This is the moment where I actually start to enjoy the act of running. I’ll pump up my iPod to play something rhythmic and up-beat. If I’m starting to slow down, I’ll play my “pump-up” song. I’m embarrassed to admit that there’s no song that gets me going faster than Britney Spears’ ‘Womanizer’. Ick. There, I said it. Please feel free to laugh at me. I am.  But all jokes aside, each hill seems that much more approachable with each verse: “Womanizer, woman-womanizer you’re a womanizer…”. There! I reached the top of the hill… pushing myself to keep going and trying not to focus on the burning sensation in my legs… “OH womanizer, OH! You’re a womanizer baby”.  She may be a virtual train-wreck and the polar opposite of anything related to health or fitness, but that woman can get me moving!

As for becoming addicted… that is yet to be seen. I’m sure there’s some truth to it, but I’m certain it will be a long while before I’ll put “addicted” and “running” into the same sentence. Of course if Britney keeps popping out hits as rapidly as she has been, I may be eating my words sooner than expected... :)

A Body Ready To Be Worshiped

My body is taking an official Leave of Absence today from all of these running shenanigans.  To date, I've done quite well - running 4 days a week and cross-training my core at the gym about 2 days a week, with one *much* needed day of rest in between.  Today is said Day of Rest... it's a Holy Day really, and not just because it's Sunday. I keep thinking of the old biblical saying, "your body is a temple".  And if my body is indeed a temple, then I'm ready to let the rest and worshiping begin.   

Three weeks ago I couldn't run one mile without stopping.  However with each passing run, I managed to push myself further than the time before.  The other day I ran my 3.7 miles... but had to walk two or three blocks in the middle.  It's not perfect, but it's certainly progress and I was incredibly excited to break my own distance record.  Yesterday, Team in Training held their weekly group run along the water by Crissy Field.  I met tons of incredible people, most of whom had, like me, never attempted anything like this before.  It was a great feeling to get out there on a Saturday morning and share this truly life-changing experience with a bunch of strangers who by the end of the day, I felt I could call friends.  The brunch & mimosa to follow didn't hurt much, either.

So while I'm beyond thrilled to be taking this day off and letting my body recuperate (Hallelujah!!!).... I'm excited to get back out there tomorrow and, hopefully, set a new record.  113 days to go....

25 Random Things About Me

Facebook has this posting that's circling the internet where you think of 25 random things about yourself and then pass them on. Kind of random, but here's what I was able to come up with.... 

1.) My middle name is Suzanne, after my maternal grandmother
2.) I am terrified of cotton balls… I can't touch them. I can't stand the way they "squeek" when you hold them. I do however LOVE using q-tips… because they're so tightly wound around the stick that you don't get that squeeky effect.
3.) I sang with my high school choir on the Great Wall of China
4.) I could eat plain/natural frozen yogurt every day for the rest of my life and never tire of it.
5.) I never wanted a tattoo and didn't even like them, then got one in Mexico. I love it. I won't get another, but I love the one I have.
6.) I get a serious rush out of changing my hair. Dying, chopping, bleaching... drastic = awesome.
7.) Michael Buble doesn't know it yet, but we're getting married.
8.) The first time I went bowling or sang karaoke were when I was 17. In China. Random.
9.) A few days ago, I ran 2 miles without stopping for the first time. I thought I was going to die.
10.) I just signed up to run a half-marathon in May. I'm ridiculously excited... and deeply terrified. See #9.
11.) I was a bit of a tomboy growing up. Remember those Stussy & No Fear shirts? They were baggy, they were boy-ish, and I rocked them.
12.) I just started a blog where I will publish all of my random thoughts for everyone to ponder & laugh at. www.whitneywonders.blogspot.com (you know about this one because you're here!)
13.) I'm the ultimate hopeful romantic. Not hopeLESS people, hopeFUL. There's a difference.
14.) There are few things I love more in this world than cooking & trying new recipes. I would love to publish a cookbook one day.
15.) Chyna the (scary) female wrestler kissed me. On a dancefloor in LA. There are photos to prove it.
16.) Someday, I would love to be a stay at home mom.
17.) My biggest fear is to look back and wish I'd done more with my life. As Wayne Gretzke said, "You miss 100% of the shots you never take". I want to live my life with no regrets.
18.) I want to travel the world.
19.) I came face to face, 6 feet from a great white shark when I was 7 or so years old in Hawai'i. I still get squirmish in the ocean.
20.) I believe in ghosts.
21.) I have a nephew who is 7 years older than me.
22.) As far as spicy food goes, the more painful, the better. If it makes your eyes tear up watching me eat it, it's just about right.
23.) I cracked my head open when I was 4 on the sidewalk at the airport. They had to stitch it up without numbing it... I still remember it like it was yesterday.
24.) Beautiful views are my absolute favorite. They give me chills, and warm my soul. I could live in a shack and be happy as a clam so long as I have a breathtaking view to enjoy.
25.) On my 12th birthday my mom said I could pick what I wanted to do that day. So we went to Costco. Costco & Target are still my favorite places to shop.

There.  I told you it was random!! :)

I Am Not A Runner...

...I never have been.  I've never been very athletic in general.  In my 2 years playing basketball in middle school, I made one shot.  The crowd roared... I clearly remember the coach cheering, "YEAH, Whit!!".  Most people would think I had a really supportive audience.  And I did... but the real reason they were screaming so loud is because I was lousy, didn't have any confidence, and nobody (including myself) thought I was going to make that basket.  Then came softball in high school.  I (barely) made the JV team, and when I wasn't missing the pop fly's in right field, I was warming the bench.  The only 'sport' I committed to did well in, was Cheerleading.  I spent years defending the fact that Cheerleading was in fact a sport... although most maintained that it wasn't. It was a great way to get exercise, and we did compete (and win!)... but it isn't a sport in the way that soccer or football or baseball is a sport.  I sit here, reluctantly admitting defeat.

That's why I'm terrified that I just signed up to run a half-marathon.  Terrified, exhilarated, optimistic, I'm feeling it all.  I've never run more than two straight miles without stopping... so tackling 13.1 on May 31st will most certainly be one of the biggest achievements of my life.  So will raising the $2,900 for blood cancer research.  

To donate to my campaign and help find a cure for blood cancers, please visit http://pages.teamintraining.org/sf/rnr09/whoover 

And of course I'll be posting updates as I train for the big day.  Stay tuned....

The Birth of Blogger # 300,000,001

Apparently, I'm jumping on a bandwagon.  What I thought was a form of communication embraced mostly by Generation Y is apparently far more popular than I had originally gathered.  There are, in total, about 300 million blogs out there, though only 100 million plus are considered currently active... (insert *GASP* here).  In essence, there are almost exactly as many blogs as there are US citizens, and roughly 18,488 times as many blogs as there are Starbucks locations worldwide.  That's a lot of blogging.  

I love communication.  I should, I majored in it.  I love talking, texting, emailing, IMing, calling, and visiting.  If you know me, you are more than well aware that I'm a talker.  There's no getting around it.  When faced with a predicament, I'm not the type to bottle up my thoughts and emotions.  I'm more of a volcano, letting every thought and feeling erupt in an effort to better understand the problem at hand as well as the best way to tackle it.  (Note:  If you're a close friend, insert a HUGE thank you here for putting up with me in said times of crises).

Non-verbal communication can be just as enjoyable.  Admit it:  there are few things as fun as eye-flirting with that good-looking so-and-so across the room.  Holding hands, smiling, hugging, winking... I'm a fan of them all.  But of all forms of communication, I find writing to be by far the most enjoyable, and certainly the most stimulating.  The funny thing is, I'm not even that great at it.  I'm good, but nothing to write home about it (Ha, no pun intended...).  But, there is something about being able to sit back and think about what you're going to say before you actually say it.  Unlike with verbal communication, writing gives you all of the time in the world to properly articulate what it is that you're trying to express.

But blogging?  No.  No way.  I've always silently laughed at my friends who have them. Not in the mean "Ha-Ha!" way, but in the "How-do-you-even-find-the-time-for-that?" and "Do-people-really-care-about-everything-you-have-to-say?" ways.  Yet here I sit, writing my first (of what I can only imagine will be many) entries in my very first blog.  In the end, I'm not doing it for any reason other than to feed my hunger for writing.  And, hopefully, it will offer you a chuckle or two and give you an excuse to take that mental 10 minute vacation you need after hitting that brick wall at work.  

So I guess that's it.  I'm officially a Blogger.  Here goes nothing...